The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.
few words that Todd had spoken, had been sufficient to convince Sir
Richard Blunt of one thing, which was, that they were beneath the
parlour, and not the shop. It was from the shop the people disappeared,
so the heart of Todd's mystery remained yet to be reached. There was
another small door-way a little to the left of where he stood, and Sir
Richard, upon the impulse of the moment, passed through it alone. He
came back again in a moment.
"Gentlemen," he whispered, "have we seen enough?"
They nodded, and without another word, he led the way back again from
the dreary subterranean abode of murder. It was only to the fruiterer he
whispered, after they had gotten some distance from the spot upon which
the dead body lay--
"I know all."
"Indeed?"
"Yes. When we get back to your home, I will tell you. Let for the
meantime the general impression be, that all there was to learn
consisted of the secret of that square hole in the flooring of the
parlour."
"Yes, yes! But there is more?"
"Much more. You and Sir Christopher at present, I think, are the only
two persons I shall be communicative with. The whole world will know it
all, soon enough, but long and old habits of caution, always induce me
to keep my information as quiet as I possibly can."
"You are quite right, Sir Richard. Even I shall feel it to be no offence
if you keep entirely to yourself what you have seen."
"No, no! I wish to avail myself of your advice, which has done me good
service upon more than one occasion; so when we get to your house, we
will talk the matter fully over."
By this time they had got so far from the immediate vicinity of Todd's
house, that such excessive caution in conversing was no longer
necessary, and the magistrate pausing, made a general remark to all.
"The less that is said about what we have seen here, the better it will
be. Let me beg of every one not to give the smallest hint to any one,
even in the most confidential manner, of the discoveries that have been
made here to-day."
An immediate assent was of course given to this proposition, and in the
course of five minutes they were all in St. Dunstan's church. It was
something amusing to Sir Richard, at that moment, to notice the look of
relief there was upon every countenance, now that the investigation into
that underground and unknown region was over. Each person seemed as if
he had just escaped from the toils and hazards of a battle. By a glance
at his watch, Sir Richard ascertained that only one hour and a quarter
had been consumed in the whole affair, and he was pleased to think how
soon again he should be personally superintending the safety of Johanna.
Before, however, the party got half way to the door of the church, they
heard a vociferous argumentation going on in that quarter, and the voice
of the beadle, who was well known to Sir Richard, was heard exclaiming--
"I will come in. I'm the beadle. Fire! Fire! I will come in. What! keep
a beadle out of his own church? Oh! Oh! Oh! Conwulsions conwulsions! It
ain't possible."
"Gentlemen," said the magistrate, "we must repress our friend the
beadle's curiosity. Let us all say 'Hush' to him as we go out, and not
another word."
This was generally understood, and they walked slowly in a kind of
procession to the church door.
"Pitchforks and hatchets!" cried the beadle. "I will come in. Dust to
dust, and ashes to ashes. Look at my hat and coat; I ain't a himposter,
but a real beetle! Bless us, who is here? Why--why, there ain't no
service nor a wedding. What a lot of folks. Have they been a grabbing of
the Communion plate? Oh, murder, conwulsions, and thieves!"
Sir Richard went close up to him, and in the most mysterious way in the
world, whispered in his ear "Hush."
"Eh?" said the beadle.
Sir Christopher took hold of him by the collar of the coat, and
said--"Hush."
"Well, but--but--"
The fruiterer beckoned to him with great gravity, and when he come
forward a pace or two, said--"Hush."
"But good gracious what am I to hush about? What is it all--what does it
mean--tell us, for goodness gracious sake? I don't know anything; I'm an
ass--an idiot. What am I to hush about--I shall sit upon no end of
thorns and nettles, till I know.--What is it?"
"Hush! hush! hush!" said every one as he passed the now nearly
distracted beadle, and finally there he was left in the church porch
with nothing in the shape of information, but hush! The man who had been
left by the magistrate as a sentinel at the church door, was the last to
leave, and he took his cue from all the others; and when the beadle laid
hold of him crying--"I'll take you up. I won't let you go," he gently
sat him on the floor; and then saying "Hush!" away he went likewise.
The large slab in the church, that usually covered up the passage
leading to the vaults, was left uncovered; but then the beadle perfectly
understood that that was for the sole purpose of relieving the vaults,
during the week, of the accumulation of mephitic vapours supposed to be
in them; and at all events no impulse of curiosity could be sufficiently
strong in him to induce so desperate a step as a descent alone into
those dreary abodes of the departed; so that he was, in a manner of
speaking, compelled to put up entirely with "Hush!" for his portion of
the mystery.
Sir Richard bade good-day to every one but the fruiterer at the door of
the church; and then with him he walked to his shop opposite to Todd's.
Crotchet was close at hand, and he came into the shop, at a signal from
the magistrate to do so.
"Is all right, Crotchet?"
"Right as a trivet, sir. Lord bless you about so much as a sneeze, but
I'll find it out; and as for little Miss Thingamybob, he shan't hurt a
hair of her pretty little bit of a head."
"That's right, Crotchet. Remember that the bringing to justice, with
ample evidence of all his crimes, of Sweeney Todd, is a great object;
but it is an infinitely greater one to preserve the life of Johanna
Oakley."
"I knows it," said Crotchet.
"Resume your charge, then, Crotchet. All will be well, and this will be
Todd's last day out of Newgate."
Crotchet nodded, and made his exit.
In the succeeding half hour, it would seem that Sir Richard Blunt made
his old acquaintance, the fruiterer, thoroughly acquainted with all he
knew of the way in which Todd got rid of his victims. What that way was
will very shortly now appear; and we think it had better appear in this
regular and most authentic narrative, than in a chance conversation
between Sir Richard Blunt and his friend.
It was the special duty of one officer to come into the fruiterer's shop
with a report and a description of whoever went into Todd's house, and
now this man made his appearance.
"Well, Jervis," said the magistrate, "so Todd has a customer, has he?"
"I don't know, sir. It is a woman, well dressed, and rather tall than
otherwise."
"Mrs. Lovett, without a doubt. No one need go and look after that lady,
for I don't know any one, except you or I, Jervis, who is so capable of
taking care of number one. Todd will find her a troublesome customer,
and if she is at all the woman I take her to be, she will not go into
his back parlour quite so easily as he would fain persuade her."
"Then no one need follow, sir?"
"No; but if the young lad comes out, you may just look in and ask some
frivolous question to see what is going on. If the female is not in the
shop--she is dead."
"Dead, sir!"
"Yes. She will not live a minute after she leaves the shop; but you may
depend she will not do so; she is to the full as well acquainted with
Todd as we are, so there is no sort of apprehension of her coming to any
harm. I should indeed be sorry to lose her."
Sir Richard Blunt was right in his guess. It was no other than Mrs.
Lovett, who, agreeably to her appointment with Todd, called upon him for
her half of the plunder for the last few years.
CHAPTER XCV.
MRS. LOVETT IS VERY INTRACTABLE INDEED
Before entering the shop, Mrs. Lovett hovered about it, peeping at the
things in the window, and glancing about her as though she had some
uncomfortable ideas in her mind concerning the place, and was coquetting
with her feelings a little before she could make up her mind to go into
it.
At length she laid her hand upon the handle of the door, and turned it.
She stood upon the threshold, and her sharp glance at once comprehended
that Todd was not there. Johanna advanced towards her, and waited for
her to speak.
"Oh," she said. "Is Mr. Todd in?"
"No," said Johanna. "No, madam."
Johanna did not think it worth while at that time to expose herself to
the great danger of disobeying Todd's positive commands, to say he was
not at home, merely upon a point of punctilious truth. Mrs. Lovett
looked keenly at her.
"So," she said, "he is out--is he?"
"Yes, madam."
"And you are Mr. Todd's _boy_?"
The emphasis which Mrs. Lovett placed upon the word boy, rather alarmed
Johanna, and she was more terrified when Mrs. Lovett marched twice round
her, as though she were performing some incantation, glaring at her all
the while from top to toe.
Whatever was Mrs. Lovett's opinion of Johanna, however, she
magnanimously kept it to herself; but the young girl had a sort of
perception, that her suit had not escaped the keen and penetrating eyes
of Mrs. Lovett. This conviction gave a great air of timidity to
Johanna's manner in speaking to the bold bad woman who confronted her.
"And so he is out?" added Mrs. Lovett.
"Yes, madam."
"How long has he been gone?"
"Only a short time."
"Well, my principal business this day, is to see Mr. Todd. I have made
such arrangements at home, that I can wait here the whole day if
necessary, for see him I must--and see him I will; I had a sort of
presentiment that he might be out, notwithstanding I have an appointment
with him."
With this Mrs. Lovett sat down and composed herself evidently for a long
wait--she did not sit in the shaving-chair though. Johanna thought that
as she passed it, she rather shuddered; but that might have been a mere
fancy upon the part of our young friend.
Mrs. Lovett was not exactly of the shuddering order of human beings.
"Did he say when he should return?"
"No, madam."
All these questions of Mrs. Lovett's were asked with a sneering kind of
incredulity, that was quite sufficient to show Johanna how completely
she disbelieved the statement concerning the absence of Todd. That she
would wait until Todd was perforce obliged to show himself, Johanna did
not doubt. There was something about the pale face and compressed lips
of Mrs. Lovett that at once bespoke such a determination; but should any
scene of unusual violence ensue, Johanna made up her mind to rush from
the shop, if near the door, and if not able to do that, to cast a
missile through the window, which she knew would bring her immediate
help.
"How long have you been with Mr. Todd?" asked Mrs. Lovett of Johanna.
"Only a few days, madam."
"And what made you come?"
"My necessities, madam. I was in want of a situation, and Mr. Todd
wanted an errand boy."
"Humph!" said Mrs. Lovett. "This is very strange." She rested her head
upon her hand for a few moments, and appeared to be lost in thought, and
at times Johanna could see that she was keenly eyeing her. Truly,
Johanna had never felt so thoroughly uncomfortable since she had been in
Todd's shop, for she could not but feel that she was discovered.
The only question was now whether, when she did see Todd, Mrs. Lovett
would think it worth her while to speak of the affair at all. The
probability, however, was that she was too much engrossed in the
business that brought her there to pay more than a passing attention to